


25 Reasons on why he should Live

by John_H_Watson



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock (TV) RPF, Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:17:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_H_Watson/pseuds/John_H_Watson
Summary: Mycroft Holmes reveals he has a brain tumor, but it is stable and has no signs of activity now or in the near future. The Cancer however is genetic and is believed to be in both Eurus and Sherlock, it is also believed to be the reason for their extraordinary abilities. While Eurus's tumor is also steady. Sherlock's brain tumor shows activity and is growing progressively, destroying him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the frequent mistakes, and once again I am new to this website therefore the boxes and thingymajigers are probably checked wrong. Do not refrain yourself from any harsh criticizing it better's my work. I welcome flattery as well because it betters my confidence XD. I will be writing a chapter a day until it is finished..

**Introduction..**

**Mycroft:**

 

Mycroft was staring intently at his phone watching the surveillance of his little brother.

“Where exactly are we going sir?” his driver interrupted his thoughts.

“I told you yesterday that at precisely 4:30 I had an appointment at the Burmington palace. Now if you don’t get a move on we are going to be late!” Mycroft snapped.

Astonished once more that the world could be filled with so many imbeciles. Mycroft went back to watching his phone. Watching Sherlock. Oh come on get off with it he thought as he watched Sherlock and John conversing. It had been obvious since day one that Sherlock had a romantic attachment to John, why else would he keep him around? Mycroft could come up with no other answer. Why Sherlock hadn’t acted upon this feeling yet was still unclear to Mycroft…but then again why Sherlock would even have this feeling puzzled Mycroft as well.  

Mycroft checked his watch 4:20. He tutted slipping his phone into his left jacket pocket and then leaning forwards.

“can’t you drive a little faster? It is of national importance that I get here on time. I don’t have TIME to waste!” Mycroft exasperated.

The driver glanced back irritably.

“I am going as fast as I can while still obeying the laws” he responded obviously biting back his tongue.

Mycroft scoffed “It's not like you actually care about the laws.. (He motioned towards the glove box) there is illegal paraphernalia in there. Now if you don’t hurry i will have you arrested for driving high. I hate drug addicts.”

Mycroft threatened the driver who immediately swiveled around to argue but at that moment a large truck going at high speed ran a red light Mycroft immediately yanked back and retreated into the fetal position in order to protect his internal organs. The crash happened so fast he barely made it before he felt the impact. He heard his bones crack before he felt them. His cane jammed itself into his side. He bit back a cry as he felt the hunk of metal slowly roll over to a halt. Mycroft seemed to have sustained a head injury because he felt foggy and dizzy. He unbuckled and tried to push the door open. He stumbled out of the what was now scrap metal. The truck hadn’t even stopped. People started to rush towards him ‘personal space.. don’t any of you know-” Mycroft's stumbled forward towards the stoplight pole. He held himself up just barely by leaning on it. Mycroft looked around trying to deduce the situation around him. Taking in his surroundings and what was going on, but his brain just simply would not comply with him. Mycroft’s hands slipped into his many pockets looking for his phone. Masses of people were surrounding the crash but no one paid any attention to him to preoccupied to notice he had also been in the car. Mycroft found his phone just as he heard sirens approach. Mycroft immediately found himself walking away from the scene. The people. The chaos. He found a building and leaned against the wall. He called john he couldn’t remember why but it seemed like the reasonable thing too do.

“Watson speaking, leave a message”

‘Dammit’ Mycroft cursed under his breath “john I've been in a car accident.. I am ok.. I think. I don’t know I umm… I don’t know why I called you.. I had a good reason I remember..”

before he could finish what he was trying to remember the message recorder stopped. Mycroft stared at his phone numbly. He looked up he wasn’t all right he could deduce that much. He leaned against the wall breathing heavily. He felt very ill and his body felt heavy as if it was dragging him down. Before Mycroft could take another breath he found himself on the floor which was fine considering how suddenly tired he felt..


	2. Chapter 2

**John Watson:**

"Sherlock that's enough now! stop it!" I yelled frustrated.

"now what was wrong with those clients? they had a perfectly good case, but you just insulted them and threw them out!" Sherlock had become impossible lately. Countlessly trying to get me to go on a case with him, but it was unfair to Rosy to be leaving her under the care of somebody else all the time. Sherlock looked absolutely mundane and I could see it in his face that his mind often wondered towards his cocaine that he hid in the fireplace, I kept it there but filled it with flour so that he wouldn't notice it was gone and go get more, but instead just throw an angry fit when he noticed it was flour and not his heroine. Sherlock jumped off of his chair and flitted over too his violin, picking it up and looking for the bow. "you left it in the hall closet.." (I am not even going to explain that story... because that leads to a very long.. more different story) Sherlock nodded remembering and went to collect it. "Your phone rang twice once when you went to make tea for the hatchet woman, and another when you were in the loo" Rosy began too fuss as I hurriedly looked for my phone.

"where did I put the damned thing?" I muttered to myself looking suspiciously at Rosy and searching around her and under her. Sherlock pulled it out of his pocket and handed it too me. Right I was looking around the wrong baby.. I checked the first message. "Hello Dr. Watson this is Emilia, I am just checking in I haven't seen you in a while and I know you have been busy with your daughter and all, but I do think you should still come in... Just to talk once in a while. Make an appointment anytime. Goodbye." I deleted the message giving Sherlock sideways glances, as far as he was concerned I was still visiting the therapist. When in reality I went to Mary's grave. Just as I was about to listen too the second message Sherlock started to play violin obnoxiously loud. "Can you wait a moment? I have another message to listen to!" I yelled over the music, but Sherlock didn't even look up. Rosy clapped her hands and stood up smiling and clapping for Sherlock. I smiled and put my phone away whoever it was could wait..

Sherlock finished the beautiful melody right as rosy fell asleep in my arms. She was so beautiful she looked more like her mother than me. Thank God for that. Sherlock set the Violin down and went into his bedroom. He seemed to disappear into there more than ever. Truth be told I had never actually been in his bedroom before. I never had any reason too..

It was exactly 12:33, and I remember exactly what I was doing. I was still sitting in my armchair holding rosy who was sleeping quietly. It was moments like these that I cherished... Sherlock came out of his room distraught. "Mycroft. Hospital" those were the only two words he had said before he frantically began searching for his coat even though it was on the coat racket, where he always put it. "My coat? where Is my coat?" he shuffled through paper. I tried to tell him it was on the coat racket but he wasn't even looking at me. I carried rosy to our room as quick as I could without waking her, and set her in her crib. I slowly shut the door but then practically ran out to see Sherlock whom still hadn't found his coat, but was now searching for his shoes. I grabbed Sherlock's coat off the coat rack and handed it too him. "your shoes should be behind your arm chair" I called out running down stairs.

"Mrs. Hudson? Mrs. Hudson?!" I rapped on her door. She came out "what is it dear?" My mind went blank for a second, but with Sherlock bounding down the stairs I remembered. "Could you watch Rosy for me? she is asleep in her crib in my room. Mycroft is in the hospital."

"yes, yes of course" She said. I ran backwards after Sherlock whom was all ready out the door trying to get us a cab. "thank you!" I said spinning around, out the door, and into a cab with a rather impatient Sherlock.

It was silent the first few moments. I honestly didn't know what to do I had never seen Sherlock look so worried before. The only time I had seen him show any genuine emotion was when he had heard Irene Adler had died, and even then he had an abstract and unorthodox way of going about it. "How bad is it?" Sherlock physically flinched at my voice. I immediately regretted speaking, if I had been paying any attention then it would have been obvious he was in deep thought. "They said he is in the intensive care unit." Sherlock responded coldly. As if he let any emotion into his voice it might all leak out. It was obvious he didn't want to talk, but I still felt the need to offer comfort. "Sherlock I am sorry.." I attempted. Sherlock turned so that I couldn't see his face. "Thank you." he replied. I don't believe he knew it, but I could see his reflection from the rear view mirror, and it was twisted with emotion. Something I knew he was capable of, but had been lead to believe was incapable of actually portraying.

I have a theory. My theory is that Sherlock is more Human than the most of us, and while I have claimed many times that he isn't human, because he never shows compassion for people, or any sympathy, or sometimes just any emotion at all I now realize just how wrong I was. Sherlock has more emotions than any of us. He just chooses not too show us. Have you ever been hurt so badly that it takes a while before you trust someone with your feelings again? Just because you wouldn't want to risk the chance of feeling that pain again? Sherlock is a man of probability and the probability is extremely high  that if you become vulnerable too someone then you risk becoming victim to that person. He chose never too be a victim. While it is an unhealthy way of dealing with his feelings, pushing them aside, I don't think he see's any other way. When working He has always been defensive never ruling out who is the perpetrator and who is the victim, and the same applies to his own personal life. Everyone Is the perpetrators and he refuses to become a victim.

 


	3. Chapter 3

In the Hospital was no different. Sherlock just sat absolutely still and unmoving. At least for the first 5 minutes, but then out of nowhere it was as if he couldn't sit still for his life. He was like a little kid at a candy store. Except worse. He deduced anyone and everyone who crossed his path. He paced back and forth, and that sat down for three seconds then got back up deduced people, paced back and forth and repeat. It was enough to drive any man mad, but I bit my tounge. Finally a doctor came out too speak too us (probably because Sherlock was getting on the nurse's nerves).

"Are you guys the family of Mycroft Holmes?" Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. "Yes" He said. "Ok, well he is stable now, we can move him down too one of the regular rooms.." the doctor paused shuffling through some papers. "but?" I asked. "but he had some eternal bleeding, It has been stabilized though, we also found he had a major concussion,  and so as protocol we did a MRI to make sure that everything was normal, and we found that he has a tumor in the left side his brain. Did you kno-"

Sherlock took a step forward. "Impossible" he said taking the paper work from the doctor's hands, going through it himself. "I want too see the MRI scans, and the full reports" Sherlock demanded flipping through the papers. "You think your going to find something my doctor's won't?" The doctor asked affronted. "of course 12.9% of 'cancer' patients are misdiagnosed. This here, it says that it is not progressing it shows no growth?" Sherlock asked shoving the papers towards the doctor. "yes that's correct" the doctor nodded. Sherlock continued to shuffle through the papers.

He stopped and looked up. "where are the MRI scans? I DO have a right to see them." Sherlock demanded. The doctor stood there completely shocked by Sherlock and his actions. He finally turned around and walked off. Sherlock muttered something under his breath and continued to shuffle through the papers. "2 cracked rips, a head concussion.. a broken knee cap, that's going to take a while to recover. hairline fracture in the jaw. None of these are critical. He will heal just fine." Sherlock seemed content with the paper's.

An hour later Sherlock was studying Mycroft's brain. He indeed did have a tumor. "it's genetic" the doctor explained to Sherlock. "Niether of our parents have tumors" Sherlock argued. "yes well if they are stable like your brother's then they could potentially go unnoticed for well, your whole life." the doctor said. Sherlock continued to stare at the MRI scan's. "What exactly are the signs of this type of tumor?" Sherlock continued to stare at the MRI's. "Fatigue, Vertigo, constant headaches, nausea, blurred vision. Difficulty speaking, personality change, confusion..." The doctor was listing off a whole slew of symptoms.

I studied Sherlock. Did he happen to have any of these symptoms? And if he did would he let on? "it would be best if we ran tests on all of your immediate family members. Brother's, sister's, your parents" The doctor said. Sherlock turned too the doctor. "No need I don't have any  of those symptoms and my parents are old now, any treatment could potentially danger their lives more then the cancer itself. I have all of the information I need I expect my brother to have the most superlative care Thank you." Sherlock then walked swiftly out of the room.

"Sherlock wait!" I ran after him. "Even if you had a brain tumor and it is stable you should take the tests. Too make sure it stays stable. OR too be positive it is stable. I mean what if you have a tumor and it is actually growing? You wouldn't know, you aren't a doctor" Sherlock unexpectedly stopped I almost ran into him. He turned towards me abruptly "No but you are. Have you noticed any Nausea, headaches, or change impersonality?"

"No but-"

"Exactly so there is no need to waste mine or the doctors time. Besides why are you even here? You couldn't go on a case with me because you didn't want to leave your daughter, yet here you are!" Sherlock retorted, before walking swiftly away leaving me speechless and confused.

 

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson" I said as I took my daughter from her arms. "Of course anytime, Is Mycroft okay?" I didn't meet her eyes. "yes he is out of the Intense care, he had a concussion, Sherlock knows more about it you can ask him when he gets back" I told her as I got rosy into her jacket. "going out are you?"

"yes I think I will take Rosy out too lunch and then maybe the park afterwards.." I said still not meeting her eyes. "Ok dear would you like me too tell Sherlock were you've gone?" She asked as we started to walk out the door. "No that will be all right, if he really wants too know were we've gone, he can deduce it himself" I said sarcastically and almost coldly. Afterwards I felt guilty it's not like any of this was Mrs. Hudson's fault, She was only trying too help.

 


	4. Chapter 4

I tried to stay away from the flat for as long as I could, but it was getting late and Rosy was getting tired.  I don't know what it was but I just didn't want to go home. Embarrassment surrounded me, as if I had intruded Sherlock and if I went back then my intrusion would just further but I couldn't stay away forever and so I went home, and too my surprise Sherlock wasn't even home.  The flat was dark and empty.

This only made me feel worse then ever, had I shoved Sherlock out of his only safe haven? This guilt ate at my sides as I put Rosamond into her bed.  I tried convincing myself multiple time's that maybe he had found a case or something, but this put no damper on my guilt.  I went into the kitchen, the way things were looking I knew the only way I was going to get any sleep was if I sedated myself.

4 years.  4 years of sobriety down the drain. I never considered myself an alcoholic, but then again what alcoholic actually considers themselves a drunk? I did get drunk at my bachelor party, but that was an accident.  Sherlock was so persuasive.  _So maybe it wasn't 4 years_ this made me feel better as I stumbled into the bathroom.  I didn't bother closing the door.  I turned on the light and stared at my reflection.  I washed my face and when I straightened up Sherlock was standing in the doorway.

"where did you come from?" I asked dumbly.  "where's your coat, and your funny hat? Your Sherlock Holmes you have to wear the hat.. because.." I forgot what I was going to say but I took notice to the fact he was in his pajama's and his hair was a mess.  "you're drunk" Sherlock said helping me out of the bathroom.  "No I am NOT I am John _Hhhammish_ Watson" I laughed at my own stupid joke.  _I don't think Sherlock got it._ _I don't understand I thought he went out?  did he go out in his pajamas?_    I leaned heavily against Sherlock, then thought otherwise and tried to walk on my own.  I leaned away from Sherlock trying to straighten myself up but instead tripped and fell.

I laid on the floor not even attempting to get up.  "come on John" Sherlock grunted pulling me up and helping me into his arm chair.  I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling until it stopped spinning.  _The ceiling was white.  Are all ceiling's white?  The ceiling at My old house was white._ _I remember staring at the ceiling listening to Mary's soft and subtle snoring.  She slept so soundly that I was never afraid that she might wake up when I had a nightmare.  Except for when it got really bad, and I woke up screaming, but who could sleep through that?  I miss her.  Why did she have too die?_

"She died protecting the people she loved."  Sherlock said.  "Huh?" I mumbled.   _Was I talking?  I thought I was thinking. Maybe Sherlock could hear my thoughts..  that would make sense. No that's just stupid._  "She's in a better place now.." Sherlock attempted to comfort me. _He didn't actually believe that. Too Sherlock there was no God, but how he could actually believe that is beyond my comp-compre- ugh I am too drunk too think._ "Sherlock I am sorry." I said slowly making sure I didn't slur my words.  "For what?" Sherlock asked walking into the kitchen. "For not going on cases with you.. I am just afraid.  I am all Rosy has left... If I die who is going to care good of her?" My words came out fumbled but I think he understood what I was saying.

Sherlock came back from the kitchen with a glass of water.  Which I gratefully drank it because I was thirsty and we were out of juice boxes.  I checked earlier.  I completely forgot water even existed.  Or at least that you could drink it.

"Did you ever stop think that you weren't alone in this? That me and Mycroft and Molly and Mrs. Hudson. We are all here for you? And IF anything WERE too happen, that Rosy would still have all the love and support she needs?" Sherlock explained.

I smiled _Sherlock taking care of a baby? Comical, sweet but comical. Although it was assuring too know he cared. Sometimes you forget. That there is an actual human under there._ "Can you walk?" Sherlock asked. "Yes. I'm not THAT drunk" I declared attempting too push myself up. My legs felt like jello, so I allowed Sherlock to assist me. Sherlock helped me down the hall, but he walked me straight past my room. "Wait Sherlock that's my room." I tried to pull him towards the room, but our feet got twisted and I fell to the ground bringing him with me.

"Oops sorry" I said as I tried to push myself off of him. Sherlock slipped out from under me. "John let me help you" He offered. "No I told you I am not even that drunk..." I insisted using the wall too push myself up. He helped me to his room. "why are we going in here?"

"because we don't want too wake up rosy and you are unbelievably loud." I didn't protest I was too tired. I think maybe mixing drinks wasn't the brightest. I started too take off my shirt.  _Wait, bad idea. Sleeping in someone else's bed in your underwear. No._ So I started pulling my shirt back on. _I'll just sleep in my clothes too night_. Sherlock just stared at me with an odd expression on his face. I sat on his bed as my thoughts leaned towards earlier _It's genetic so it runs through the family. What if Sherlock actually had cancer? I couldn't live without both my bestfriend and my Wife. What if he died?_ I laid back into his bed as he pulled a blanket over me. His bed smelled amazing. Just like him. "mmm Sherlock?" I mumbled as I pressed my face into his pillow. "Yes?" he asked leaning forward to hear better "Please don't leave me."

"I won't" he said sitting in the chair besides me.

I only heard Rosy cry once, it made me jump it sounded so far. I climbed out of bed. It took me a minute too realize were I was. I went into my bedroom the light was on and Sherlock was rocking her too sleep while going too sleep himself. He must have heard me come in because his eye's opened. He held one finger to his mouth telling me too be quite then he waved his hand implying that I should go back to bed. _How did he get in here before me?_ It only occurred to me as I climbed back into his bed that he was sleeping in my own..

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up with a headache but that was expected. I felt guilt wash over me. _I was such a terrible father putting my emotion's before Rosie's safety_. I stared at Sherlock's bare walls. _I didn't deserve this, she didn't deserve this_. I caught my reflection on a mirror my face was filled with self pity and regret. _I was a pathetic excuse for a human being_. Most days I just want too put on my uniform and squeeze the trigger, but the thought of leaving Rosy alone in this world stopped me from putting too much thought into it. _She already lost one parent losing another is unfair. Its cruel._

I stopped self loathing and made Sherlock's bed trying to push out all thoughts, because I knew any would just lead too more unhappiness and I had a façade to put on the minute I walked out of that door. Sherlock and Rosy could never know how truly depressed I felt day in and day out. Mostly Sherlock seeing as Rosy wasn't old enough too understand yet.

I stood in front of Sherlock's door mentally preparing myself. _Think happy thoughts._ I opened the door going out too the living room neither Rosy or Sherlock was in sight. I went back to my own bedroom they weren't in their either. As I passed the bathroom I heard a loud noise. The bathroom door was partly open so I allowed myself in.

Sherlock was leaning over the toilet, his head mopped with sweat and his face ghastly pale. He was dry heaving, and his entire body was seizing trying to reject something out of it. "Oh God, Sherlock are you ok?" I said rushing forward to help him. He looked at me and moaned "I am fine get out!" he yelled, but I was a doctor and it was my compulsion too help. I ran too the kitchen too prepare some tea. As the water was preparing to boil, I ransacked the cupboards looking for crackers. I finally found them behind the rice.

Right as I poured the tea into a saucer Sherlock came out. He did his very best too look normal, but he was still pale and seeing what I had just seen I realized that this could have been going on for a long time.  Sherlock was a very good liar and I had no reason not too believe him.

"I am fine John, it's just food poisoning, I ate some bad chips." Sherlock excused himself deliberately avoiding my stare. "Oh yeah? and how about the headaches? Hmm I know for a fact you've been getting those" I said sternly. "Those are just from withdrawl's." Sherlock lied. I know he was lying because he still wasn't meeting eye's with me. I could see right through him.

"How bad is it?" I asked. I couldn't I just couldn't deal with this. He didn't respond. I nodded. It was evident he wasn't going too talk to me, me who was supposedly was his best friend. That's right Sherlock doesn't have any friends. "where's Rosemond?" I asked. "Molly took her out for breakfast" Sherlock exclaimed. Right Molly wanted to take Rosy out today.

I sat in my arm chair. I heard Sherlock's feet shuffling behind me. No this isn't going to work. We are not NOT going to discuss this. And I said Exactly that standing up from the chair I just sat down in. "Nope this isn't going to work. We are not going to just ignore that this ever happened, we are going to talk about it. Sherlock what is going on?" I demanded.

Sherlock looked mildly surprised by my confrontation, but he shrugged it off. "It's nothing, just food poisoning John" He proceeded to put on a façade, a mask I could see right through. It had me wondering if he saw through mine as well. "Sherlock dammit! I swear to God if you don't answer truthfully then I will drag you too the hospital." I straightened up. Stiffening my back both feet together to show that I was a solider and I had meant exactly what I said.

Sherlock smirked. "so are going to start telling the truth to each other? but the semblance was quite amusing I thought we were doing well..." Sherlock muttered quite enough to be directed towards himself, but loud enough for me to hear. "You will take me seriously! William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" Sherlock turned swiftly around looking me into the eye Alerted. I had never used his full name, in fact he had only mentioned it once, but I had finally got what I was looking for. His full attention. "Tell me what's wrong,( I paused knowing that I already know the answer. Knowing that Sherlock knew that I knew, but knowing wasn't enough. No I needed to hear HIM say it. I needed for him to confirm it was true.) Just tell me what's wrong with you." I said quietly staring directly into his eyes. I could see my own reflection and I was falling apart. He came closer to me resting his hand on my shoulder. I could tell he was contemplating admitting the truth or too continue lying. Deciding if I would actually believe a lie. I wouldn't, and that is what must have pressed him to admit the truth.

 

"I have cancer" Sherlock said. Even though I already had guessed this much it didn't mean that there wasn't just a sliver of hope that it wasn't truth. That maybe I was wrong. That small sliver of hope seemed to be the only thing that was holding me together.

 

"John?" I could hear Sherlock but he sounded far away, like I was 6 feet under water. "I-I'm fine" I assured him. The room was spinning I held onto the fireplace mantle too keep myself from falling. "Oh God don't" I gasped "Don't what?" Sherlock asked. _Don't Faint, The last thing you want to do is faint._ I breathed heavily trying to count the seconds between my breaths, but gun shots disrupted all thoughts in my mind. My best friend in arms lay beside me -reliving his last moments.

 

_It's just a dream. Thank God.... but it felt so real._ I kneeled down. Another solider tried to stop me but I yanked away. "LET ME HELP HIM! I AM A MEDIC!" I fell next to my dying friend. I felt exposed as the bullets hit the dirt around me. "Why can't I save you? Why couldn't I save you?" I cried out. Against my efforts too keep them back tears fell out spilling  out on what was no longer the desert floor but had now become Sherlock's shoulder. He held me. I felt his voice but I didn't hear it. it felt reassuring.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter is late... Been going through somethings didn't feel well enough to write.. hope you like it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sherlock:**

John stood infront of me. A solider threatening too force me under the care of a hospital if I didn't relinquish more information. I knew he was serious but I couldn't help but too laugh. This only made him mad. Understandably I perssume, but what if. What if the truth was too much for him? I wasn't blind I knew John Watson wasn't doing well. The Nightmare's were getting worse and for God's sake his wife had died only a year ago, and I could see it in his eye's, He saw her in everything. He still heard her voice from time to time. He was no where near too recover as I had hoped.

John was still depressed, and I knew the truth. The truth would only hurt him, but I could also see he would except nothing but the truth. I could tell him that I was abusing again and that this time it wasn't heroine, but he wouldn't believe that. John is smart. Smarter then the average lot. So instead I made a joke out of it. "so are going to start telling the truth to each other? but the semblance was quite amusing I thought we were doing well..." I smirked at my own quip.

John Didn't seem to find it funny. "You will take me seriously! William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" I turned to fully face him, surprised. It was hard to catch me off guard, but I found John Watson could do it very often maybe that's why I liked him, he was full of surprises. This time John was smirking. only slightly and it didn't reach his eye's. "Just tell me what's wrong with- with you.." John was deeply sad. I could see it then. He already knew. Of course he did he was a doctor, but he was also a solider, a very broken one. Injured from the war.

I assessed my options. Continuously lie to John until he gets frustrated and give's up, the downfall. He wouldn't just get frustrated and give up. He might get frustrated and leave. No he wouldn't leave too far, he needed to be close too Mary's grave. A place he visited often, but still. He would leave. Or I could tell him the truth which he already know, and watch him fall into a deeper depression.

In this moment I had become selfish. My reasoning or how I had justified my actions? I told myself I couldn't help John Watson If he had left me, and moved. That if I just told him the truth now, I could help him see there was nothing to be worried about, but who was I kidding? I couldn't save John Watson now how could I save him after telling him the truth? How would I be able to convince him that I wasn't dying when he was a doctor and in fact knew already that I was dying? I told John Watson the truth simply because I couldn't cope with the fact I might actually die alone, When in truth I was leaving John H. Watson himself too die alone in the end.

"I have cancer" I finally said. John's eye's immediately became distant. He closed them "John?" I had begun to worry. His reaction was something I had never seen before. "I am fine" He attempted to assure me, but this assurance was contradicted when he fell against the fireplace mantel harshly. "Oh God don't" He said weakly. "John?" he didn't seem to hear me. "John? Don't what?" I asked. His eye's fluttered open. He didn't even see me. He looked right through me as if I wasn't there. As if he was seeing something else.

He stumbled forward staring at something infront of him on the floor. I grabbed him too keep him from falling, unsure of what exactly he was doing. He pulled sharply away "LET ME HELP HIM! I AM A MEDIC" John screamed. I immediately stepped back surprised. John Watson sat down on the floor "Why?! Why can't I save you!?" he cried. I walked forward kneeling down in front of him. He leaned into my shoulder crying "why couldn't I save him?" he cried. I put my arms around him. Allowing his full wait to compress into my shoulder. "Its ok" I didn't know what to say that would be emotionally reassuring, and I was doing all I could think of for physical reassurance.

Mrs. Hudson came in "Oh dear what's wrong?!" She asked panicky. "I heard some yelling , I thought maybe somebody had left the telly on.." She explained. "Nothing. I think he is having a flash back" I didn't think. It was now obvious. "Should we call somebody? the hospital?" She offered. I shook my head fiercely, the last thing we needed was more hospitals. She stood there uncomfortable and unsure of what she should do. "we will be fine" I said excusing her. She stared worriedly at John before hurrying away.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Reason 1**

**John continued:**

I breathed steadily as everything around me stabilized, but for once I wasn't counting my breaths to calm myself down. I was counting Sherlock's. I didn't want to move, because if I moved I would have to look him in the face, and I dreaded what it might reveal. I dreaded facing what had just happened. I felt like I had let someone down by falling apart like that. Whom? that was still undecided, maybe more or so myself then anyone else. I thought I was strong enough to hold back all these emotions.

Sherlock seemed to be able to do that perfectly. Suppress his emotion, and a deep envy burned inside of me wanting a talent such as that. I knew that I would eventually have to let go of Sherlock, and that as soon as I did, the distance between us would resume. Instead it would be replace by heavy awkwardness from the fact that we were so close. I finally pulled slightly away, Sherlock's arms dropped to his side. I tried to stand up but my legs felt weak. So I stayed for a second longer. Then I forced myself to get up.

Sherlock stayed silent and I refused too look him in the eye's. I didn't know what to do. Do I go pick up rosy? I can't leave for work yet not for another few hours. Maybe I could leave anyways, just too get out of the flat. My hands were visibly shaking and I couldn't stop them, I felt like how Sherlock looked when he was in desperate want of a hit. Like my body was racing and something inside of me was breaking. I couldn't put it into words that actually made sense.

Ten minutes ago I had wanted so desperately to talk to Sherlock about how he was feeling and what was wrong with him, but I didn't even mention it now. I knew what was wrong, something you couldn't fix. Chemotherapy didn't work, they just made the medical company's richer. Nothing worked. I knew nothing worked there was no cure for cancer. Sherlock was dying and this time it wasn't quick. This time I was forced to sit here and watch.

I finally looked at Sherlock's face. He was remotely pale, his own hands twitched subtly. His face was lined with something... Could it be concern? He was watching me closely. I deserved that much, first I had drunkenly woke him up last night, and second I had just collapsed in front of him just at the mere mention of cancer. I was a mess, and nothing could fix that. I could try to drown it out by consuming large amounts of ethanol. Go back to the way things were before I met Sherlock, before I met Mary. Before I had Rosy, but I had no right. I had an obligation.

I turned to go into my bedroom. "John.." Sherlock grabbed my arm. I closed my eye's sighing I didn't proceed towards my room, but I didn't turn around either. I kept my back facing him staring intently at his bedroom door. "what? Sherlock" I focused on keeping my voice level. Sherlock pulled me closer to him and he did something I would have never expected. He embraced me in a hug.

So I set before you reason 1; Here Sherlock was, I could tell he was in both physical and emotional pain. I mean imagine it, knowing your days were ACTUALLY numbered. His curly hair was a mess and if you looked closely you could see beads of sweat drip down his forehead, but yet here he was. Comforting me. I had NOTHING too be dramatically upset over. I wasn't losing my life. I was just losing my best friend. That's all...

 


	8. Chapter 8

Mycroft's Voice could be heard clearly over the phone. He sounded absolutely mundane. _Eurus's tumor is stable no signs of recent activity._  "Why are you telling me this?" He demanded of his older brother over the phone, _I just felt the need to keep you updated._ Mycroft explained. "Ok well update received.. Good bye" Sherlock said, but still did  not hanging up the phone. _You haven't been in for an MRI yourself._ "And you have thinning hair, now are we done pointing out the obvious?" Sherlock demanded. There was sudden silence, then Sherlock pulled the phone away from his ear in amusement. Mycroft had hung up.

"well that wasn't kind" I said crossing my arms. "wasn't it? hm I didn't notice" Sherlock said reading a news paper. Or at least pretending too. "you haven't told him have you?" I asked pressing on the matter. "No reason too he already knows. He is just going through the motions" Sherlock shrugged. "Maybe he really doesn't know?" I suggested. Sherlock scoffed. "If you had the ability to find out Mycroft definitely knows."

"Yes, except I only found out because I found you being sick in our bathroom." I pointed out. Sherlock put the paper down abruptly "Oh God John must you be so dull _all the time?_ " I frowned, was there something I wasn't getting? My confusion showed clearly on my face. "Mycroft and his **surveillance?** does that ring a bell?" My frown only became deeper. "Yes well he has people follow you- ....." A truth dawned on me "You don't mean? Wait!" I immediately jumped up. "You mean to say there are camera's _**IN**_ the house!?" I practically yelled in alarm.

Sherlock must have thought this was extremely amusing. "Yes, why do you think I always walk around naked?" Sherlock pointed out. _Oh my goodness. Camera's **in**_ _the house?!_ I could feel my face change into 5 deep shade's of red. _I am glad I second guessed my assumptions on why Sherlock walked around the house naked.. but what has Mycroft seen? Was there camera's in his bedroom? It was obvious there were camera's in the living room soo he couldn't escape **those** certain embarassment's, but what about my bedroom? _ "Been doing some naughty things have you John?" Sherlock mused _making a joke? Sherlock was actually making a joke?  The world really is falling apart isn't it?_ I edged off my seat. "Where are you going?"  Sherlock asked as I got up to go to my bedroom. I stopped "Umm nothing I am just going to go clean the.. " I turned around and walked swiftly into my room.

After an hour of 'deep cleaning' my room. I finally decided that there couldn't possibly be a camera anywhere in my room. I came out of my room. Content but still slightly wondering if I had missed something. Sherlock was smiling I knew he found my reaction quite amusing, but I found the whole thing absurd. _Following Sherlock around is one thing, but putting camera's in the flat that wasn't just watching Sherlock, I lived here too, but it wasn't about that was it?_

14:30, it was time for me to go visit Mary's grave. I hindered near the door, looking back at Sherlock. _I am tired of the secrets. The constant secrecy between us. Secrets is how I ended up in the place I was today. If Mary hadn't kept secrets from me..._  I immediately pushed the thought out. Refusing to finish it. "Going too therapy?" Sherlock asked, not looking up from my computer. "yes." I nodded, still standing next too the door. _Maybe I should just tell him, maybe if I stop keeping secrets then he will too._  Sherlock still didn't look up _. Who am I kidding, Sherlock is a very secretive person._  "right" I mumbled nodding and turning around to leave, but then I stopped and turned back around. "Um, actually I am not. I am going to visit Mary's grave" I said. Sherlock looked up. "I know" He said simply returning his attention to my computer.

"Wait how do you know? I kept it completely secret, I even made sure I kept the same route so traveling time would add up correctly." I asked, absolutely appalled that I had never been actually deceiving him, and that in fact he was deceiving me by not telling me he knew.

Sherlock smiled absolutely delighted he could show off. "You spend approximately 70 pounds every Thursday, It could suggest that you eat lunch before you go into to see your psychiatrist, but the amount of time spent does not allow it, beside's the places surrounding the therapist's area are not within your 'dietary'. So it is out of the question that those are the places you spend the 70 pounds. However near the cemetery there is a place you dine at quite often. A café. You spend approximately 20 pounds there you eat lunch then you proceed to spend 28 pounds on flowers for Mary's grave at the flower shop across the street from the café. Blue bell flower's they are her favorite... On the way back from the Cemetery you stop at a sweet shop were you spend approximately 2 pounds on sweets for Rosemond. You then take a cab back spending the remaining pounds on the cabbie." he exclaimed.

I stood there obviously shocked. "How **exactly** did you find out? What did I leave a receipt laying around? Or did you find a sweet shop wrapper?" I asked angry and embarrassed that he had known this entire time. Sherlock finally met my eye's "No... I visit Mary's grave quite often as well. Every Saturday night. You are the only other person who knew what her favorite flowers were" Sherlock said quietly. "oh" I pursed my lips. I opened my mouth too say more but quickly shut it. I turned to walk out of the flat, but stopped myself again.

"You knew this entire time? but you didn't say anything. Why?" I asked.

"because I had no reason. If you choose Mary's grave over therapy it is because you don't need a psychiatrist too get better, you need a friend." Sherlock replied.

 _A friend._ "Ok, promise me something Sherlock?" I begged.

"what?"

"Promise me no more secrets?" with those words I had Sherlock's full attention. Silence lay between us, but I didn't break it, he needed to be the one to break it.

"Ok." Sherlock finally said. I nodded my head and this time I actually left the Flat.

 


End file.
